Rurouni Zuko
by Pyrebender
Summary: Obviously an AvatarRurouni Kenshin crossover. Five years since the Avatar ended the war, a scarred wandering swordsman comes to stay at a dojo run by a certain blue eyed Water Tribe girl.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything about either Avatar or Rurouni Kenshin.

A/N: Please don't complain too much about anyone being out of character because I had to change them slightly to merge the two. I also apologize if this seems a copy of the first episode of Rurouni Kenshin, but any other chapters will be different from the series as well as a bit more back-story.

Chapter 1: The Wandering Swordsman

The war against the Fire Nation ended five years ago. Aang, the Avatar, had been found and led the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom to victory. He led the people into a new era, dissolving the national borders. He had decided to unify the world by making a single world nation under the rule of the Council of Ten. The Council was comprised of three members of each nation except the Air Nomads of whom only the Avatar was left, and he now sat as head of the Council.

But he was not the only one to make a legend during the war. There was a manslayer known as the Blue Spirit, for the mask that he wore. With his swords he was considered invincible, and left many a body in his wake. As it was told he was the one to kill Fire Lord Ozai, and in the battle his mask was broke. After that he seemed to just disappear, leaving Aang to defeat the now Fire Lady Azula.

It is now the end of the fifth year of the Unified Era, and when our story begins.

The morning mists were just starting to lift in the town of Kyoshi. On a street of that particular town a young woman of nineteen ran, trying to find someone in particular. She wore blue and white robes, and her dark brown hair was in a long braid and two loops. She had searched the streets from before dawn, and had yet to find the one she sought. That wouldn't stop her though. This was for her family.

As the mists cleared she turned a corner to spy a man walking with his back to her. He had messy black hair and wore a long red tunic with a grey sash over his black shirt and white pants. He carried a rucksack on his left shoulder, and from his opposite side hung a broadsword. This man had to be him.

"Stop right there, Blue Spirit!" She shouted as she swung at him with the wooden sword she carried.

With a quick glance back at her he was able to jump off to the side, easily avoiding her swing. She watched as the man landed upon a bench with a bucket of water at one end. His landing would have been perfect had the wood of the bench not been old and weak. As it was when his weight hit the bench the seat snapped, sending him falling and the bucket flying. From the heap he'd fallen into he began to lift his head only to have the bucket fall onto his head, drenching him.

She looked at him in complete confusion. How could this be the infamous manslayer? She watched as he groaned and removed the bucket, tossing it to the side. He looked up at her questioningly with a pair of gold eyes. Deep down she had to admit that he was rather handsome even with the scar extending from his left eye to his ear.

"How can you be the legendary swordsman? I heard that you killed three more people just last night, but you seem so…" She started but was cut off by the man's quiet voice.

He said, "I'm a wanderer, nothing but a wandering swordsman. Besides do you really think I'd be capable of killing anyone with these?"

He held up the scabbard for her to take the sword. She did so slowly, ready if he tried anything. She lifted them straight up to have a better look, and immediately became shocked at what she saw. First, it wasn't one but two swords, but that wasn't it.

She exclaimed, "What is this? The cutting edge is on the wrong side."

"They're reverse-blade dual swords, and cannot be used to kill. Well, not easily anyway." He explained as he stood, dusting himself off. "As you can see there's nothing about them that even looks like they've been used to kill."

She looked again, and said, "You're right there's not a mark on them. They look as good as new."

He gave a half smile, "So, I've proven my innocence I guess?"

Her expression turned sour as she turned her attention back to him. She started at him. He backed away nervously as she poked at him with the index finger of the hand with the swords, cutting edge toward him. She said, "NO, this is the Avatar's Unified Era, and it's illegal to carry a sword!" Before she could continue the sound of shouts were heard. "That must be the real Blue Spirit!"

As she ran off she tossed the swords off into the air. The man startled by the sudden action gazed as his swords went up and then began to fall. As they came down he deftly caught them, fluently brought them together, and sheathed them. He gazed in the direction that the girl had gone. He had a bad feeling.

The young lady turned another corner to find a rather tall man holding a sword over a few of the town's policemen. He wore black clothes and a plain blue mask. He swung the sword down, slicing into the shoulder of one the men. His deep cruel laughter filled the air as he taunted the men. She became enraged at the mere sight of him.

She rushed at him, her wooden sword raised, shouting, "Blue Spirit, you'll pay for what you've done!"

The killer turned toward her and she could almost see the sadistic smirk. He moved just in time to dodge her blow, the tip of the blade leaving a shallow cut on the arm, and turned toward her as she rounded back. He swung his sword horizontally at her, cutting her wooden sword in half as she moved back to dodge. She threw the chunk of wood at him as he approached, which he just laughed off. She gasped as she saw him raise his sword, preparing to cleave her in two. As the downward arc began, she was scooped up and carried out of the way, the sword slicing into the wall she had been against. She looked up to see the gold-eyed man from before.

He said, "It's awfully reckless to take on a real sword with a wooden one. You should be more careful."

More shouts from policemen began to sound as the masked man looked at the two. He turned to see the men come onto the street. With one last look at the two he began to run off, though not quietly. He shouted, "I am the Blue Spirit, greatest manslayer of the war! I use the Kamiya style of swordsmanship!"

The girl struggled, "No, I have to stop him. That's my family's style." She soon passed out.

The man gazed down at the young woman in his arms. He thought, '_She certainly has a strong spirit._'

She awoke to find herself on her sleeping furs, the blanket sliding down as she sat up. A twinge of pain alerted her to the bandage on her arm. As she gazed at it her mind conjured the image of the black haired, gold-eyed man when he was carrying her. Her mind was snapped out of her reverie when an aroma came wafting into the room. She stood and opened the door of her room that lead out toward the garden.

"So, Miss Katara, you're finally awake, are you?" The wanderer asked looking up from stirring the pot of stew. "Your grandmother said it would be alright if I made some breakfast while she went to get some ointment for your wound."

"You know, we have kitchen." she replied sarcastically. "How did you know my name?"

He looked up again, "Your neighbors were nice enough to give me directions here, and your name."

Two little girls came up to the man, each with an armload of vegetables. The exclaimed, "We got them! Let's add them all!"

He turned back trying to protest but was simply met by a splash of hot water as the two dropped the vegetables in. At their looks of possible crying, thinking they'd done wrong, he gave a sigh and smiled at them. He then picked out one vegetable at a time and began cutting them up.

He commented as he cut, "These two have been a great help, and I'd like to think were getting along well."

The girls said coming up to either side of him, "He's our friend, Auntie Katara!"

"Katara, it's good to see that you are awake." An elderly woman called out, coming through the gate. "And I see that breakfast will soon be ready. Lets treat that arm in the meantime. Wanderer, you can just let that sit now."

As the woman said that the two girls grabbed onto the young man's sleeves and dragged him off to play with them. He wasn't really given the chance to protest as they pulled him down and climbed on him. Katara and her grandmother laughed at the sight of the three while the elder unwrapped the bandage.

"Hmm, this was treated quickly with some skill. The bleeding has already stopped, and with the ointment there shouldn't be any scarring." Gran-Gran commented.

Katara smiled as the two girls tickled the wanderer. She said, "You know, he carries those swords, but he just didn't seem like the warriors from the war. I wonder why he carries them to begin with."

Gran-Gran glanced in to the yard, "The ways of the warrior is something not easily subdued, not even by the Avatar."

The old woman finished rewrapping the arm, and went to check the stew. Katara looked over as the wanderer sat up after the two little girls ran to their great grandmother. He had a soft smile on his face, but she couldn't help but notice the glimpse of sadness in his eyes. She also had to admit the earlier thought of how handsome he was, even with the scar. Who was this man?

"Wanderer," Katara said, "I want to invite you to stay here while you're in town. We have plenty of room, particularly with my brother and his wife out of town. It's the least I can do to thank you for saving my life. If you wish, you can consider it warrior's compassion. You don't quite look like you could afford to stay at an inn."

He glanced down at the worn clothes that he wore, and averted his eyes as he blushed. He asked, "Are you sure though? You don't even know who I am."

She shrugged, "I suppose you have your reasons for being a wanderer and that's fine. Those are your own business. What do you think Gran-Gran?"

The woman smiled, "That sounds fine with me. It'll be nice to have a young man around to help with the chores. It's going to be few days before Sokka and Suki return, so feel free wanderer."

He smiled and bowed, "Thank you."

After breakfast Katara began to show the young man around. They lived in a house attached to a dojo that served as a school for the Kamiya Style of swordsmanship. She explained that when the war ended they discovered that the South Pole no longer provided the resources to support their tribe after the return of their warriors. Thus the tribe moved north, and her family settled in to the village of Kyoshi, which grew into a small town over the five years. While he was gone her father, Hakoda, had learned the use of swords, and began a school with his two children as his first pupils. Now he had been gone for the prior year as a member of the Council.

The school had fallen upon a rough spot as few people attended it. To compensate, Katara's older brother, Sokka, and his wife, Suki, would go to neighboring towns to give lessons. Katara was left to give lessons to the few local students they had left, but even they were wavering because of the Blue Spirit.

He asked, "So you are from the Southern Water Tribe? I heard tales that the Avatar was found there."

She smiled, "Yes, my brother and I found him frozen in an iceberg. It took forever to chip him out. After that we travelled with him until he reached a temple in the Earth Kingdom."

The wanderer gazed up and quietly said, "Yes, trust me I know of what happened after he met the Earth Kings. Please tell me about this sword style."

She replied, "My father taught that our style could help a person to unleash and cultivate their inner potential. He believed a sword was meant to only protect. I only hope that I can continue to teach as well as my father. Now you see why I can't let that murderer continue to claim to use our style."

Gran-Gran called, "Katara you're students are here!"

Katara said, "Now watch, with my students we'll get him." She then ran out to the front gates to the three teenage boys standing there. "Great, now that you are here we can find that... What's the matter?"

None of them could look at her. The first said, "I'm sorry, but we can't continue training here."

"We're criticized because we study the style known for that killer." The second explained.

The third spoke, "Our families have threatened to disown us. We know that you were probably counting on us, but we, we can't."

Together they pleaded, "Please, forgive us." With that they left.

The wanderer watched from the doors of the dojo as they left, and Katara looked dejected. He thought for a moment, and gave a small nod at the memory that flashed in his mind. He walked out and placed a hand on her shoulder. He was caught off guard, though not very surprised, by the tears forming in her blue eyes.

With a reassuring squeeze, he said, "My uncle used to tell me that a nice hot bath and a cup of tea was always sure to sooth a person's worries so you can find the best solution easier."

She quietly said, "That actually sounds rather nice. Could you prep a bath, please, while I make some tea?"

Soon enough Katara was sitting in the tub in the bathhouse, trying to sort out all her problems. Outside the wanderer was caring for the flames in the fire pit that heated the water of the bath. Katara's older niece, Xiefa, was looking in through the wood slats of the window, ready to relay any message from her aunt. Katara's thoughts were muddled as all the events of the past few days drifted in her mind. It was too much! To try and help clear her mind, she dunked her self completely under the water.

Xiefa commented, "I think she might be crying."

The young man grew concerned. He called out, "Miss Katara, are you alright? Miss Katara?" He thought, '_She wouldn't, would she?'_

He ran around the small building, and flung open the door. At the same moment Katara surfaced, shaking the excess water from her hair.

"Miss Katara, suicide solves nothing! You mustn't give up!" he shouted, coming to a stop as their eyes met. Upon realization of what was really happening a blush rose to both their faces followed by an ear-shattering scream from Katara.

That evening at sunset Katara led him to the storage shed, his arms full with a set of sleeping furs. Since the incident at the bathhouse she had refused to even look at him. She wouldn't admit it to him, but he had been the first man to see her naked except for her father and brother when she was a baby. He had tried to explain, coming close to losing his temper when she wouldn't even listen to him. She soon placed the bar on the door down, locking him within the shed.

"You can just stay in there, and think about what you've done!" she yelled.

He sighed and asked, "Miss Katara, do you happen to remember anyone that had a grudge against you family and is missing the thumb from his right hand?"

She shouted, "Are you trying to imply that he's a student of ours?"

"No," he said quietly, "but I don't think your father would want you to die just to protect a reputation. I assure you, what others think of you is not worth any life. I believe he'd want you to be happy before all else." He turned his head toward her with a small smile.

Caught off guard for a moment, she shot back, "Don't you dare talk about my father! What would a penniless wanderer know about anything?" She then stormed off.

Later that night Katara lay in bed, having trouble falling asleep. Every time she closed her eyes she would see the wanderer's face and hear his words about her father. Why couldn't she get him out of her head? He would likely continue on his way the in next day of or so. She should just get over it, but that got her thinking back about the day. He really wasn't at fault for what he said, and deep down she knew he might have been right. She sighed, knowing that she owed him an apology for overreacting.

She got up and walked out from her room, pulling on her sleep robe. She padded down the veranda, and across the yard to the doors of the shed. Katara hesitated as she lifted her hand to knock. Why was she so nervous?

Finally she knocked, "Listen, I-I want apologise for losing my temper earlier. I can usually control myself better than that, but when you started talking about my dad… Well, it's been two years since he's actually been home." There was silence. "Hey, I'm apologizing here. The least you can do is say something!" She unbarred the door and flung it open. All she saw inside was the folded pile of sleeping furs, looking untouched. "He's gone. He never even told me his name."

Elsewhere in the town, a large man in black swung his sword straight down into a wood and straw scarecrow he had taken as a training target. His unmasked face was strong, pale, and bearded. His dark gray eyes were narrowed in hateful slits as he gazed down at the remains of his target. Three tough, but ragged men stood around him, impressed by the strength of the single swipe.

The large man straightened and said, "We do it tomorrow. That family will know my vengeance!"

The next morning Katara sat against the wall of the dojo. Since she had found the empty tool shed she had only slept a few hours. The rest of her time was spent thinking about the wanderer and his words. This had led to the rehashing of memories from a few years back of her father telling stories about his exploits in the war. One story swam from the depths of her memory that sparked her mind racing.

Her father's group of warriors had attacked a Fire Nation encampment one night. They had moved in under cover of brush, and rushed the camp during the change of the night guards. There had been a young soldier who had died, and shortly after Hakoda learned it was the commander's son. The commander had become enraged at finding the body, and charged at her father. Hakoda had flung his sharpened boomerang at the man but he only succeeded in cutting off his right thumb when he dodged. As her father's men had moved out he'd heard the man swear revenge, and warned him to beware his name…

"Zanryu." She gasped.

"So he told you of that experience, eh?" A gruff voice scoffed. "He told you of how he murdered my son? At least you'll know why you have to die."

Katara turned to see the Blue Spirit in the doorway with a man on either side of him. He reached up and removed the mask to reveal a twisted scowl full of hatred, but with a maniacal smirk. The three walked toward her, and she scrambled up, grabbing one of the training swords. One of the henchmen ran forward his own real sword raised above his head, ready to swing into the girl. Before he had a chance to do so she swung hers into his gut, doubling him over, and then down on the back of his head, knocking him to the floor. She turned and went for Zanryu. He sliced her wooden sword and then punched her in the gut, knocking her to the ground.

"You know, I almost feel indebted to your father for making me have to perfect my left handed swordsmanship." He said, and lifted her up, the point of his sword at her throat. "But nothing will stop me from my revenge upon your entire family."

She flinched lightly at the feel of the blade's tip, but her eyes shot open at the strained sounding voice from the doorway. Another of the henchman had arrived, but he looked like he was barely holding himself up.

Zanryu shouted, "I thought I told you to kill the old woman and kids!"

All the man did in reply was fall forward with a groan. Another deep firm voice came from behind him.

"This man will not be killing anyone today, and hopefully not ever. You will place Miss Katara down, now." The wanderer said as he walked into the room, stepping on the fallen body.

Zanryu threw her to the ground as he turned. He said, "I remember you from yesterday."

"I knew I should have dealt with you then and there."

"Are you one of this school's foolish students that believes a sword can reveal some inner potential?"

"No." he said that same firm tone. "A sword is a weapon designed to slay men. Learning to use a sword is to learn how to kill. That's the truth. Her sweet and innocent words can come from only one whose hands have never been stained with the blood of men." He then smiled, "Although, I do prefer her sweet and innocent words."

With a flick of his hand the two henchmen rushed forward. They came up on the wanderer, but in a flash they were falling to the ground, his swords drawn out in a wide arc. He straightened up with his swords to his sides, and scowled directly at Zanryu. He commented, "I feel I should tell you that the Blue Spirit doesn't use either the Kamiya family's style, or your style of swordsmanship. He uses the Dragon's Flame style that will not fail to kill an opponent unless you use reverse blade swords like these."

The large man eyes widened slightly and muttered, "Gold eyes, a trait of Fire Nation nobility, and a burn scar on the left side of his face… So the rumors were true. The exile was indeed the man slaying spirit. How is that scar the Fire Lord gave you, traitor?" His last comment was laced with vehement pleasure, at which the wanderer's scowl deepened.

Katara's mind reeled at the revelation. The wanderer that she had so easily invited into her family's home was the infamous Blue Spirit? He had lied to her, but then again he had come back and saved her. Though now he stood before a man more than a head taller and almost twice as broad as him. If the stories about him were true there wouldn't be a problem, but as she watched she couldn't help the worry that began to form in her gut.

Zanryu approached the shorter man and sneered, "I suppose this could be considered vengeance for what you did to the Fire Lord, but beyond that there cannot be TWO Blue Spirits. So this is your death!"

Just as he began his slash the wanderer had jumped up striking the fingers of his left hand with such force that loud cracks rang out, the bones in his fingers shattering. As soon as his feet returned to the floor his second sword swung in a powerful arc, colliding with Zanryu's side. The large man let out a loud grunt and all the air in his lungs at the strike, and fell back and to the side, unconscious like his henchmen.

Katara stood, a hand on the forming bruise on her stomach, as he sheathed his swords. She asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He turned to her with a regretful expression and answered, "I didn't want to trouble you with it if I didn't have to. Besides, I haven't gone by that name in years, since the end of the war. Your family went to get the police, and should be back at anytime." He turned and started toward the door. "Well, I guess I should get going, good bye Miss Katara."

As he reached the door she shouted, "You stupid jerk!" That stopped him and had him turn back to look at her, confused. "You just walk in here, and then leave, expecting us to handle everything alone. Fine then go, but" her voice softened a bit, "before you go at least tell me your name."

"Zuko." He said, "Zuko Himura."

"Zuko." She repeated softly, trying the name out. She continued, "You could always stay."

"Having the Blue Spirit here would only cause trouble for you or your family, and I don't want that."

"I never said that I wanted the Blue Spirit here, I want you, the wanderer…" She cut herself off, embarrassed by the way she had sounded. She couldn't remember sounding like a desperate little girl before. She turned away, blushing lightly. She nonchalantly said, "Well, if you're going to go, I wish you luck." She heard the door slide shut and sighed.

"I have to admit that I am a little tired of wandering." Zuko's voice said softly.

She turned to see him in front of the closed door with a bashful smile on his face. Katara slowly walked forward as he did the same.

He said, "I'm a pretty bad cook."

"I'm sure me and Gran-Gran can teach you a few things."

"I might accidentally see you in the bath again."

She cracked her knuckles as she replied, "If you do, I'll just have to handle you the old fashioned way." She ended with what was supposed to be a mock punch, but it landed in the side of his face, knocking him to the ground. She gasped, "I'm so sorry. I thought you'd dodge that."

The police and Gran-Gran found them like that, and it took a lot of talking to convince them he had nothing to do the four attackers. Later Katara could be found giggling at her nieces teasing Zuko as he flinched at the ointment Gran-Gran put on the bruise she gave him. As she thought about it, it was going to be an interesting experience having the young man here. Then she cringed at the thought of Sokka's reaction, and Suki and he were due back in a few days. '_That isn't going to be pretty.' _She thought.


End file.
